


Strange and Wonderful Circumstances

by projectsuvi



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Half-Life
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Joshua died from Leukemia, Light Angst, M/M, Tommy has a nice garden, Tommy is ridiculously blunt, this was just a silly idea I had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26294242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectsuvi/pseuds/projectsuvi
Summary: Tommy prides himself on his garden.He knows his flowers are beautiful. He’s not vain about it, but he’s complimented so often on his garden that he knows it’s true.So you can imagine his surprise when his flowers start going missing.
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	Strange and Wonderful Circumstances

Tommy prides himself on his garden. 

He’s put months, if not years, of work into it. Carefully tending the plants, making sure they’re perfectly cared for. It’s a hobby, but one he’s very passionate about. He’s always thought flowers were the key to home decor. A well-placed fern can change the entire feel of a living room, a hanging plant could make a porch seem more well used, and a tended garden makes a home seem lived in. 

He knows his flowers are beautiful. He’s not vain about it, but he’s complimented so often on his garden that he knows it’s true. 

So you can imagine his surprise when his flowers start going missing. A rose here, a peony there, each carefully snipped so as not to harm the rest of the plant. He almost wouldn’t have noticed, if it wasn’t for how often it occurred. Starting in May, once a week, a flower goes missing. He’s a little angry about it, understandably. But he’s not going to cause a stir about it. If he sees the culprit, he’ll confront them. Simple as that. Tommy generally hates confrontation, so there’s no reason for him to cause problems about a couple flowers. 

The odds of him meeting the culprit are low, which makes today all the more bizarre. 

It’s a rainy October day, and Tommy’s home sick. He’s made the executive decree that the flu is, indeed, a bitch. His neck aches, even with the pillows he’s propped his head up with. Not to mention the constant fever shivers. He’s sitting in his bay window, watching the drops make their slow dance down the glass. It almost reminds him of when he was a kid, watching the rain fall outside and pretending the droplets were racing. It’s nostalgic. Today is a nice day to be nostalgic. 

He sighs, taking a long drink of his tea. It’s a lemon ginger tea, with honey. More of a comfort tea, but he finds it makes him feel better when he’s sick as well. It tastes like sunshine and warmth. 

There’s very few people milling around outside. Tommy lives in a very populated area, a college town, so this is surprising. Normally there’s people talking outside the cafe across the street. He watches the few passerbys, eyes following one in particular. He’s dressed in all black and holds a black umbrella. Curly brown hair falls down his back like a waterfall. He wears glasses, simple square frames. Tommy watches as he pauses in front of his garden, seemingly admiring the Black Eyed Susans and celosias.

Tommy finds him strangely attractive. Maybe it’s the fever, but he thinks that this man would be nice to hug. He just looks...kind. And then he realizes he’s being creepy and looks away. 

But his gaze drifts back to the man, for a different reason. The man is leaning over his Black Eyed Susans, and holy shit, are those scissors in his hands? 

Tommy doesn’t have it in him to get up and walk to the door, but he can open the window. He pops the latch and pushes the window open, and before he can think, shouts, “I hope your girlfriend likes those flowers that you’re stealing!” 

The man stiffens. Looks up and meets Tommy’s gaze. Tommy frowns. The man looks more...sad, than scared. His shoulders are dropped, like there’s a weight on them. He says something in response, but Tommy can’t hear him, so he shouts “Can you- please come closer!” 

The man does as Tommy says, and walks to a few feet in front of Tommy’s window. He looks nervous. “I-I’m sorry, I...I can't afford a florist. They’re uh, they’re for my son’s grave,” he says, softly.

Tommy’s stomach drops. For a grave? Suddenly, the amount of black he’s wearing makes sense. A grieving father who can’t afford a florist...God, that’s awful. He couldn’t be angry about that. Who could? Sure, Tommy puts plenty of work into his garden, and he should be angry, but he can’t bring himself to. It’s almost a compliment- “your flowers are pretty enough for me to put them on my son’s grave.” 

Tommy meets his gaze- the man’s eyes are a beautiful shade of green. Like evergreen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they were for- that you’re-“ 

The man shakes his head, hair bouncing with the movement. “No, I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have stolen your flowers. See I-I visit his grave every week, and he loved flowers, and I don’t have the money for a florist. I thought...I thought you wouldn’t notice if one went missing.” 

Tommy blinks. The man’s rambling is almost adorable, if it wasn’t for the circumstances. The man shifts on his feet guiltily.

Tommy smiles awkwardly. “If you’d- if I’d have known, I could’ve given you some. I’m Tommy, by the way.” 

Now it’s the man’s turn to be surprised. “Oh. I’m uh, I’m Gordon. Freeman. I’m sorry, again, I just...I needed something. And I thought it would be weird to ask, you know? You obviously take amazing care of your garden.” 

Gordon Freeman. Tommy rolls his name around in his mind, working the syllables. Freeman, Gordon. It’s oddly fitting. Now that he’s up close, Tommy notes the grey streaks in his hair that almost seem premature. 

Once again, Tommy speaks without thinking. He doesn’t even acknowledge the compliment. “Can I ask how he died?” 

“What?” Gordon tilts his head, confused and a little offended. Tommy’s cheeks flush with shame. He’s not sure why he’s acting like this. Maybe it’s the mix of the fever and embarrassment? “Uh, leukemia. Why?” 

“Oh. My con- I’m sorry for your loss.” Tommy taps on his mug, suddenly nervous. He shouldn’t have asked that. Bad Tommy, watch your mouth. Your father always told you to have a filter. 

“It’s...alright. I’m sorry again, for taking your flowers. I won’t again.” Gordon smiles, and even though it’s just a slight upturn of the lips, it’s positively radiant. 

“No!” Tommy shouts. “I-I mean, you can keep doing that. I can, uh, provide you them. If you give me your number, I can tell- I can text you! Or you can text me.” 

There’s a moment of silence, the only sounds being rain hitting Gordon’s umbrella and the soft chatter from outside. Tommy’s nervous, nervous that he said the wrong thing, or that Gordon got a bad vibe from him, or something irrational. He wants to get to know this man, to help him, and flowers seem to be the only way to do it. For now. Maybe one day a relationship will blossom out of this. Hell if he knows. He’s just a hopeless romantic, flirting in a downpour. 

Gordon’s smile grows, and he pulls out his phone. Tommy’s heart jumps in his chest, for no discernible reason. It’s just a phone number. Calm down. “I think that would be lovely. Thank you, Tommy.” 

They exchange numbers, and as Gordon walks away with a single Black Eyed Susan in his hand, Tommy can’t help but think, what a strange, wonderful set of circumstances that brought them here. 

Hopefully, even more strange and wonderful circumstances bring them together again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something self indulgent. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> My tumblr is @projectsuvi


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